The Sect (The Craig Crime Series) (7 page)

“So why didn’t they leave a signpost to his crime like they did with the first two? The first boy had the choke pear left behind and the girl’s track marks were already obvious.”

Craig shook his head. “Perhaps there’s another dimension to the judgement that we don’t yet understand.”

“Like what?”

Craig stared into space as something else occurred to him. “Their youth is important somehow.”

“Young enough to be redeemable?”

Craig nodded furiously. “Yes! Perhaps our killer thought they were still young enough to repent and when they didn’t he judged them guilty and executed them.”

John puffed up his cheeks and blew out the air in a long whistle.

“You don’t agree?”

“I think it sounds like something from the Old Testament, or a bad movie.”

Craig’s face fell and he slumped back in his chair. “What then?”

John shook his head. “Do you really think none of them would have repented? Even to save their lives?”

“So what’s the answer?”

“I don’t know, but I think that until we identify the victims it will be impossible to say.”

His words were absolute but he gave a caveating smile. It said ‘maybe your theory isn’t complete crap’. He’d seen Craig be right too many times to dismiss anything that he said, but they needed proof.

Craig shrugged, taking the hint. “You’re right. We have days of routine enquiries ahead. But don’t dismiss the theory; it could still turn out to be right.”

John nodded. “It could. Or this could just turn out to be some nutter with a cling-film fetish.”

Chapter
Five

Craig’s apartment, Stranmillis. 9 p.m.

Katy watched as Craig picked at the dinner she’d prepared, occasionally lifting a few grains of rice to his mouth and then staring into space for minutes, before repeating the action, with his fork similarly bereft of food. After ten minutes of the same routine she whisked away his plate, hopeful of a howl of protest; instead all that came was a vague ‘that was lovely’ and another blank stare into space.

She had a theory and she decided to test it. A moment’s rustling at the fridge resulted in two bowls being placed on the table. Hers contained ice-cream, Craig’s contained a fridge magnet photo of his family taken when they were kids. As his spoon hit the bowl the thud of metal against plastic made him glance down and then look up at her with a wry smile. She seized the eye contact as an opening.

“The case or your family? Which one is worrying you?”

They were the only things that ever really worried him. He nodded at the magnet; she’d guessed it right. She decided to hazard another one.

“Lucia?”

He nodded. “Lucia.”

It was the first focused word that he’d said in twenty minutes and as he considered his next one Katy replaced the magnet with some ice-cream. He waited for too long so she moved things on.

“What’s wrong with Lucia?”

Craig shrugged. “Nothing. Yet. It’s what she’s planning to do that’s the problem.”

It took her another five minutes to drag out the story and less than a second for her to picture Mirella’s hysteria and work out what needed to be done. She brewed some coffee and ushered him across to the couch, folding her legs up under her.

“OK. It’s fair to say that Lucia is as stubborn as you, yes?”

He made a face. “I’m not stubborn, just decisive.”

Katy rolled her eyes, remembering times when she’d tried to change his mind.

“Well, if you’re decisive, Lucia’s equally so. Agreed?”

He nodded.

“So any attempt to talk her out of going to Syria will fail.”

He nodded again, with a glum expression.

“It’s simple then. Just don’t try.”

His glum look changed to a frown. “Oh, that’s very helpful. I’ll just let her go and get killed then watch Mum cry for the next ten years, will I?”

She tutted gently. “Don’t be sarcastic, pet. What I meant was that if you say no to Lucia she’ll get even more determined to go, so you don’t say no, you divert her instead.”

“With what? A road sign?”

He marched over to retrieve the cafetière as Katy sighed.

“There’s that sarcasm again.” She waited till he’d sat back down to restart. “Think. What does Lucia want more than anything?”

“To save the world.”

She shook her head, infuriating him again. To Craig it seemed she was taking perverse pleasure in winding him up.

“She wants
love.
For all her feminism Lucia wants a boyfriend; you know how miserable she’s been since she and Richard split up. She’s lonely. But if we can find her a nice man she might just want to stay here and continue with the charity work that she normally does.”

It was on the tip of Craig’s tongue to object when he realised that she might be right. Lucia had been miserable since Richard’s punishing concert schedule had made them call it a day six months before. Since then she’d marched for Save the Whale, run a marathon for Save the Badger, and now she was going three thousand miles away to save every human being that she could. All noble causes but only the last one might get her killed.

He shook his head. “If you say that to her she’ll eat you alive.”

“Then I won’t say it.”

He leaned over to give her a kiss. When it ended his glum expression returned. Katy smiled.

“Nice to see that kissing me cheered you up so much.”

Craig sighed. “It’s not that, pet, and I’m sure you’re right, Lucia
is
lonely. But how do we find an eligible man in the next few weeks? Everyone I know is already paired off.”

Her smile widened to a grin. “That’s where Natalie and I come in. Leave it to us. We’ll organise a party and invite every man in the health service, if you’ll promise to invite every unmarried man in the police.”

****

The C.C.U. Thursday 26
th
March, 11 a.m.

Craig glared at the conference call spider on his desk and shook his head.

“I can’t believe your lawyers said that!”

Yemi Idowu’s strong voice echoed around the office, his angry tone matching Craig’s. “Neither can I, but they did. Yesterday afternoon.”

“So because all Greer’s murders were committed in Northern Ireland, they want to just bow out of the appeal? How can they do that when she confessed at Heathrow during a joint operation with The Met?”

Jake went to say something but Annette shook her head, glancing at Craig cautiously. The discussion was really pushing his buttons.

He swallowed hard, trying not to rip the head off his long-time friend.

“I’m sorry, Yemi. I know it’s not your doing.”

“Or the Super’s. He’s bloody furious. He says they’ll damage the relationship between The Met and the PSNI. It was a joint op and everyone knew it.”

Craig sighed heavily. “But your arm of the case was Alik Ershov and he’s dead, and Joanne Greer didn’t commit any crime on English soil so I suppose your lawyers have a––”

“Bollocks! It all happened in the UK.”

The line fell silent so Annette coughed quietly for attention. Craig nodded her on and she leaned instinctively towards the spider, even though its microphone picked up everything in the room.

“Hello, sir, it’s Inspector McElroy here.” It wouldn’t be soon. She’d be returning to her maiden name Eakin ASAP.

Yemi’s voice held a smile. “Hello, Annette. I’m looking forward to meeting you; Marc’s always singing your praises.”

She blushed and carried on. “We’ll be over tomorrow evening, sir, but I was just wondering something. How, if Ershov wore a wire supplied by The Met and the tape was transcribed by The Met, can The Met’s lawyers now abandon the appeal? You were involved at the moment of Greer’s arrest at Heathrow so surely you’d have to testify about the tape and arrest at least?”

They all heard Yemi thump the desk.

“Exactly! That’s what we’re arguing about with the solicitors. They want us just to send a written statement but I believe there’s merit in me being there to speak in court.” His voice hardened as he said the words, as if he’d made a decision. “Oh bugger it, Marc. I’m going to court whether they like it or not. Someone besides you has to testify about Greer’s demeanour and actions that day. She knew exactly what she was doing when she confessed to Ershov, even if he did give her a bit of encouragement.”

Craig smiled, remembering Yemi’s performances in court from when he’d been at The Met. He would have the jury eating out of his hand.

“Can you swing it with Chandak?”

“It’s what he already wants so he’ll enjoy telling the lawyers where to stick their advice. If we’re lucky he might even come over for the trial.”

Craig pictured the ebullient brummie superintendent and smiled. Rajiv Chandak was extrovert enough in normal conversation so his court performance would be a treat. A warning buzz signalled that their call was ending so Yemi wound it up.

“Time to go. I’ll see you all after Easter. I’ll come over on the Thursday morning so we’ll have time to brief. Goodbye, Annette. Jake.”

As his voice faded away Craig turned to the others for comment. Jake shook his head.

“He’ll be lucky if he’s allowed to come, sir. Lawyers can exert a lot of pressure.”

Craig nodded, knowing that he was right, but Annette was more optimistic.

“We’ll have the transcripts ready to go anyway. I’m hopeful that he’ll get here.”

Craig glanced at the clock. “It’s almost noon, Jake, you need to leave.”

Jake sighed like a man who would rather be signalling traffic than going where he had to be that afternoon. As he rose Craig followed.

“I’ll see you at the church at three.”

Annette touched the young sergeant’s elbow. “I’ll be there too, Jake. Now go; your granny will be wondering where you are.”

When he’d left Craig held up the percolator and Annette accepted the offer of coffee gratefully. She re-opened the file in front of her assuming that they would be talking about Greer, only to be surprised when Craig shook his head.

“How are you, Annette?”

She stared at him, puzzled by the concern in his eyes. Then she remembered that her decree nisi was just through and to the outside world ending a marriage of twenty years seemed like a big deal. It would have been a big deal if she’d still loved Pete, but the moment he’d pushed her to the floor and stamped on her hand, whatever love she’d had left after his affair had been snuffed out.

The suddenness of its demise had surprised her. She’d loved Peter James McElroy for twenty years,
really
loved him. Through the early years of financial struggle, laughing into the night over beans on toast and a bottle of Liebfraumilch, through the joy of having Amy and Jordan and watching them grow into caring, bright teens. She’d loved every minute of it and wouldn’t wish it away for the world, but…

When had her love begun to die? It hadn’t been through habit or boredom, or the apathy that had infected many of her friends’ marriages. She’d been too sensible to let things like that destroy their bond, and besides, she’d never expected that the first romantic flush wouldn’t be replaced by something else. Something quieter, warmer; a comfortable semi-detached of a life instead of the glamour of the honeymoon suite.

No, none of that had killed her love. Its erosion had started when Pete had decided he didn’t like the semi quite as much as her and had gone in search of excitement elsewhere. Another woman; it was such a cliché that she was embarrassed to admit it even to herself. But that was exactly what had happened. His childish selfishness had created a crack in their life and another woman had crawled her way in. The fact that she was the same age as her hadn’t diminished her pain at all, although Pete had seemed to believe that it should. I didn’t go for a younger model, Annette, she was middle-aged like you so what’s all the fuss about? Such sensitivity.

Even then she’d tried to forgive and forget, for a whole year, but one crack had become one hundred and finally she’d been the one who wanted to leave. Perhaps things could still have been salvaged if her loving husband hadn’t used violence to try to regain control, but a broken hand had sealed their nuptial fate forever, landing her in the E.D. and him on remand in Magilligan; somewhere a jury would hopefully consign him to for a further two years.

Annette shook herself, realising that she hadn’t responded to Craig’s question. She smiled kindly at him, as if he needed the care more than her.

“I’m fine, sir, honestly. The kids are fine too, although it’s hard for them knowing that Pete’s in jail.”

Craig’s voice was firm. “He deserves to be there and hopefully the court will give him years. By the way, how are things with Mike?”

She made a face, not about Mike Augustus but about her teenage son. “Jordan’s not happy about me seeing him.”

“Amy?”

She smiled. “She’s just pleased that I’m happy.” Her voice dropped. “But she’s refusing to visit Pete.”

Craig shook his head unsympathetically. “There’s nothing you can do about that. Let him try to make things up to her once he’s out. It’s not your job.”

Annette’s face brightened. “Actually, sir, I wanted to ask you something. Would it be OK if I started to use my maiden name at work? I know I’m not divorced just yet but I’d like to now the nisi’s through.”

Craig laughed. “Do you think Liam will be able to cope? We don’t want to confuse him.”

She thought of Liam’s reaction and smiled. “Oh yes we do. I’ll keep McElroy privately, for the kids’ sake, but I’d like to be called Annette Eakin here.”

Craig nodded. “Fine. Let admin know and I’ll announce it at the next briefing.”

She rose to leave, a broad smile on her face. “I feel years younger already. Annette Eakin. I haven’t been called that since I was in my twenties.”

“Just as long as you don’t start acting twenty something I’ll be happy. I’ve already got enough Generation Ys to deal with in this team.”

****

Davy picked at the Save the Whale sticker on his PC, slowly peeling it off. Lucia had given it to him on a night out months before and it was beginning to look tatty now. As he scraped off the last remnant the musak he’d been listening to on the phone died away and Des Marsham’s cheerful voice came down the line.

“Davy? Are you still there?”

Davy dropped the sticker in the bin and nodded, remembering to grunt yes as well.

“OK, good. Well, the short answer is that we’ve no hits on the first two victims at all. I’ve tried the police national computer, passports and driving licences, but there’s nothing on either mugshots or prints.”